


Listen

by Mimsys



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Deaf Character, Deaf!Merlin, Disabled Character, Gen, M/M, No Spoilers, Suicide mention, Will is his interpreter, not in regards to any of the listed characters, once - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-09
Updated: 2014-11-09
Packaged: 2018-02-24 15:51:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2587154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mimsys/pseuds/Mimsys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Arthur is as good a talk show host and as queer as Ellen and Merlin is a deaf man engaged in far too many charities.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Listen

**Author's Note:**

> **If I owned BBC's Merlin in any way, we would have had a canon magic reveal.**

Arthur is used to _strange_ ; he’s been a talk show host for over two years now, and that means he’s interviewed everyone in recent pop media who’s done anything even remotely interesting. Guests on his show have displayed talents as obscure as being able to create strangely beautiful sculptures out of nothing but spoons and twine and being able to decode morse code within seconds even when it didn’t report information in English, but rather languages such as Finnish, Icelandic, and German. He’d never had a deaf guest before. Comparatively, it couldn’t be too bad. Could it?

Merlin Emrys was twenty five, putting him almost three years younger than Arthur, and scrawny- pathetically so, from what Arthur could tell from his blurry informational packet. But he had a genuine smile on his pointy features and that was something. Even though he looked half-starved and in need of aid himself, he was an advocate for half a dozen charities and was in the new chiefly because he’d managed to raise half a million dollars to aid Avalon High after the school flooded and many of the supplies were ruined. Of course it was only fitting that he appear on Arthur’s show _Excalibur_

“Fine.” Arthur slid the folder across the table to Morgana, who had apparently met Merlin through one of their shared causes; she’d been the one to bring Merlin’s work to Arthur’s attention and had practically demanded that he appear on the show, although Arthur didn’t need much swaying. “Call the interpretation agency and get us someone so Emrys can talk.”

His half-sister’s eyes grew cold as they narrowed on Arthur and the blond wondered briefly what he’d done to provoke her ire; she didn’t make him wait long. “ _Merlin_ is fully capable of speaking; he didn’t lose his hearing until he was almost into his teenage years; he’ll need the interpreter to understand you, is all. Besides, he knows American Sign Language, not British, because he was raised be his uncle overseas after his mother fell ill; he’ll bring his own interpreter. Just smile and look pretty; that’s your job usually, isn’t it?” There’s a faint smirk fixed on Morgana’s features and it’s enough to make Arthur second-guess his decision, even though he knows that she’ll never let him back out of it now. “I’ll text him, let him know you’re interested, and make sure he has a suit to wear.”

The blond can’t help but protest, “Who says I’m interested? You’re the one who wanted me to put him on the show.”

Morgana’s smirk only widened. “Trust me.” She said with a devilish grin that said he really _shouldn’t_ , “You’ll love him.”  
\--

A few weeks pass before Arthur has room for Emrys on his show, and it’s enough time for the man to wonder why exactly his sister was so intent on having the man appear; he digs out Merlin’s file for what must be the sixth time in as many days and flips to the back of the packet where the contact information is. He calls the number listed and is greeted by a vague grunt that acknowledged his presence. “Merlin Emrys?”

There’s a snicker on the other end of the line before a voice, rough with sleep and humor, replies. “No, Merlin’s deaf; you’ll need his skype or TTY if you want to talk to him. I’m his ‘terp, Will. Who is this?”

Arthur can feel his cheeks burn because _of course_ the deaf man wouldn’t pick up the phone, but cleared his throat and tried to maintain his composure. “Arthur Pendragon, host of _Excalibur_. Your client is appearing on my show next week, and I was hoping I could talk to him.”

“Oh.” Arthur can practically _feel_ Will’s disdain. “I suppose you can. I’d have to ask my _client_ if he wants you to have his contact information, though, so I’ll text you back on this number _if_ he says yes.” The man hung up with a grumbled insult; Arthur never got a reply, on the show’s number or elsewhere. He didn’t really expect one.

He became curious about Merlin’s appearances on other talk shows, finding thousands of videos on YouTube with adoring comments from people who said they felt ‘enlightened’ and ‘hopeful’ and other sorts of shite that had Arthur groaning – until he watched the videos. The man was slim and reedy but _passionate_ in a way that so few people were anymore, gaze warm and lips curved into a pleased smile. His tone was always low, soothing, unless he was angry; then it snapped and crackled like fire, and Arthur felt himself burning in it.

He spoke out about a wide range of issues, everything from his work with Camelot Conservatory to raise the last of the dragon-birds (he’d named it Kilgharrah, which seemed horribly sentimental to Arthur but still made him smile despite himself) to his time with Albion Queer Alliance, an international pride organization. Apparently, Merlin had also spent some time with the ‘Dancing for Deafness’ dance troupe where the dancers all signed to the music and moved so gracefully the signing didn’t even look foreign; apparently it’d raised awareness for deafness and encouraged other people not to be ashamed of their disability or signing in public. Much as the blond considered the cause worthwhile, he knew he watched the videos because of how Merlin’s expressive face twisted into joy and loss as he signed, dipping low and swaying his hips in time to music he couldn’t hear – but, according to his interview on _Ellen_ , he could feel beneath his feet. 

In his latest interview, Merlin had been somber and sullen, face drawn in pain, and even Will was quiet by his side; he’d been announcing the Gilli Foundation, which was founded in honour of his friend who had recently committed suicide. At the end of the clip, his eyes had been glittering with pain and unshed tears. That had been almost six months ago; Arthur couldn’t find any clips between now and then and suspected Merlin – and when had he started calling him that instead of Emrys? – had buried his loss in charity work. It was healthier than many of Arthur’s own coping mechanisms so he could hardly judge, not that it was his place to do so anyways.

By the time his interview with Merlin actually came around, he almost felt like he knew him, and he certainly cared more than he ought to. There’s still sorrow in the man’s posture and he looks worn out and weary, but he seems determined, especially when he’s able to lean lightly against his interpreter’s side. “Good morning, Mr. Emrys.” His greeting is mild but he suspects the other may have noticed his assessing gaze; Will signs the words, although it’s fairly obvious that Arthur would greet his guest, even backstage, and Merlin flashes the blond a brief smile.

“A pleasure to meet you.” His voice is husky and Arthur wonders briefly how it maintained such a soft cadence after Merlin went so long without being able to hear it; the other extended a hand and it was calloused but pale, freckles running along the back of it. “Morgana speaks very highly of you.”

“I’m sure that’s a lie, but I appreciate you saying such.” Arthur shook the other’s hand, chuckling softly, and watched as Merlin angled himself slightly to see Will’s translation; a more genuine smile warmed Merlin’s features once he’d read the words written by his friend’s hands and he laughed as their palms parted. Will didn’t offer a hand to shake; Arthur suspected it was more from his apparent but unexplained dislike of Arthur rather than the need to keep his hands free to sign for Merlin.

There’s no time for small talk before Arthur is ushered on stage and the man groaned, as he usually used that time to reassure guests that they didn’t need to be nervous; he thought it’d be a more pressing concern that usual, given the fact that Merlin was relying on another to communicate. The man seemed a natural, or at least used to it, by the time he strode across the stage to the chairs waiting for him and Will, moving one subtly so both Arthur and Will were in his field of view. With Merlin’s tone so certain and confident, it was easy to forge that he was disabled; Will even behaved himself, which Arthur had worried about.

“I just couldn’t imagine all those students having to go without books, paper, or any of the other supplies they really need if they want to continue their education at the same school.” Merlin was saying, “And no one seemed to be doing anything about it. I couldn’t’ just let it continue so I went up to Will-“ here, the interpreter nodded with a faint snort, “-and told him that we were going to fix it. I went to the dollar store and bought as many notebooks and pencils as I could shove into bags in my car and then I went over to the school – back when it was damp and moldy and being checked out for any hazards – and gave them to the principal and told her I’d bring more as soon as possible. I thought I’d be able to replace basic supplies; that was my goal, really. I never expected as much support as I received; in the end, we were even able to replace the text books which, believe me, wasn’t cheap.”

Arthur could see why Merlin was able to find so many people willing to donate money, goods, and time; he always looked so earnest. “Well I’m sure all the students and teachers at Avalon are indebted to you. In fact-“ And then he showed a video of a gaggle of eager, fumbling students with their emotional teachers signing ‘ _thank you, M-E-R-L-I-N_ ’ in clumsy sign language. 

And that’s how Arthur found himself with his arms full of Merlin after the taping. The man had been sniffling softly, obviously emotional, and Arthur had given him a brief, one-armed hug that had quickly turned into Merlin clinging to him, wet cheek pressed against his shoulder. “Part of deaf culture.” Will informed him, leaning against the wall a few yards away, “Very touchy-feely. Probably should have warned you.”

When Merlin pulled away a few moments later, his lashes were dark and damp and his eyes were red-rimmed but still gorgeous, still bright, which must have been what prompted Arthur to invite him to The Round Table, a local bar. Apparently Will’s signing got sloppy when he was drunk and even though Merlin hadn’t had a sip of anything stronger than soda the entire night, he was leaning forward across the table, eyes trained on Arthur’s lips.

When Arthur leaned forward to bridge the distance between them, brushing his lips lightly over Merlin’s, the slimmer man almost _purred_ as he flicked his tongue against Arthur’s lips. “Thought you’d never ask.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Please leave comments/kudos if you did!


End file.
